


Fury

by deeblink



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeblink/pseuds/deeblink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil and Nick have a furious fight that has consequences!  Set after the epi, 'Evalution'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fury

Fury

They stood facing each other, about five feet apart, in the living room of Gil’s townhouse. It may well have been five miles. Gil could feel, actually feel, the strength of the fury emanating from Nick.

Nick had arrived just a few minutes previously and was so angry he could barely speak. At the door of his house Nick had hissed at Gil, “I need to speak to you now and need you to speak to me now to tell me why, do you understand Grissom? Why?” 

Gil had stood aside and Nick had swept past him into the house with such speed that Gil was almost propelled backwards against the wall behind him. He closed the door and followed Nick into his living room and that’s where they were now.

“Nick….” began Gil, but that’s all he managed.

“No, don’t try your placating manner with me, don’t try to explain away things as, what, necessary evils or whatever you want to use. Your behaviour towards me was fucking unbelievable man and let me tell you that if we didn’t have this history….” He pointed back and forth between them, “I would be taking this up with your boss – did you think you could get away with it because you’ve been fucking me up the ass – is that it?” 

The last few words caused Gil to gasp; the crudity of the statement shocked him. He didn’t know, absolutely, what Nick was ranting about. But whatever it was he had NEVER seen Nick so furious, so angry and so quietly spoken as to be menacing, the spectacle…frightened him.

“Is this about…” he tried again and again he was interrupted.

“…you honestly don’t think I’ll believe that you don’t know what I’m so angry about – do you think I’m gullible enough to be taken in by that – oh, I suppose you do since you think I’m pretty useless by myself, except of course, when you’re buried balls deep in my ass begging for God to help you. Did you think Gil that I’d be a pushover at work as much as I am in your bed? Well if you did, and I was, I learned my lesson well today didn’t I?”

Nick was trembling with the exertion of keeping his hands and body from launching themselves at Gil. He couldn’t remember being so wound up and ready to fight since he was at school. That Gil could do this to him stunned him.

“No Nick, I don’t know for certain. Is it the evaluation I gave you today?”

“EVALUATION?” Nick’s voice had just moved into another gear. “You have the balls to call THAT an ‘evaluation’. A fucking riddle about fucking cows and you say I can’t go out to crime scenes on my own? I had to ask you what you meant, to tell me straight like a man. I HAD TO ASK YOU! 

“You know what, Gil? I thought you were the best; I did want to be like you…I did want to be you. But I’ll tell you right now that if I ever thought I was like you I’d fucking kill myself. Call yourself a man, you’re not are you, you’re a faggot, thought you’d got your little Nicky just where you wanted him and everything would be just dandy. That’s what you thought wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

“I think you’d better go. Nick, please.” Was all Gil could say. No one had ever spoken to him like this before, not even a suspect or hardened criminal. He was stunned.

“No, I won’t, not until you’ve explained to my face, Gil, why a riddle gives you the right to say I’m not fit to process a murder scene alone. Why a riddle gives my supervisor the information he needs to hold me back? Why my supervisor never mentioned one word about this to me in the past – hell, aren’t you supposed to do this continuous feedback crap Gil, or does that only apply when I’m on my knees with your dick in my mouth and you giving me instructions about sucking you off?” Nick had resumed his quieter mode now and wasn’t quite as likely to physically hit Gil as he had been a few moments before. 

“I…I…”

“Cat got your tongue, babe? Not used to someone biting back, not used to being questioned because you’re always right? How’s it feel, Gil, tell me?”

“Awful.”

Nick was taken aback at the whispered response and suddenly looked at Gil more closely, with a more dispassionate eye, he thought he looked close to tears and shocked. That was the right word – shocked - and devastated.

Nick’s fury began to calm. He was horrified at the intensity of his own onslaught at the man he’d professed to love less than twenty four hours ago.

“Jesus Christ, Gil, I’m…” His own sentence faded away and he stepped slowly towards Gil holding a hand towards him. Gil flinched at the movement and Nick stopped still immediately.

“I have no idea what made me say…” Nick’s words were whispered now.

Gil looked up at him, his mouth moving as if to speak but without sound, his face so drained of colour that his eyes looked almost black. The confusion and pain, even despair, that Nick saw in those eyes, caused him to groan and he fell to his knees his hands covering his own face.

“I never…” Gil said thickly, then paused and took a few deep breaths. “You’re not…Nick, I just think you can be…impetuous, you sometimes jump ahead of the game. That’s all the riddle meant. I thought you understood. How could you think…?” 

Nick was now sobbing into his hands and his shoulders heaved at the effort. Was it really that simple? Had he thrown away everything because of a stupid misunderstanding and hurt pride? 

After what seemed like an eternity Gil spoke again, quietly. “I never, for one moment, used our relationship for anything, Nick. I’m sorry if that was the impression I gave you. It just never occurred to me that you would construe so much from our… If you want to escalate this…” 

Gil felt defeated and leaden, he suddenly needed to sit down before he fell down. He staggered a little backwards and virtually collapsed onto the couch behind him.

Nick had remained as he was but was now snuffling, he put his head up and sat back on his haunches, feeling for a handkerchief in his pants pocket but when he couldn’t find one he used his shirt sleeve to mop his face and wipe at his nose. His storm had passed and hearing the defeated tone of his lover had brought him back to earth.

“I don’t know what made me say those things to you, Gil, I don’t know, maybe it was because I could, I don’t know.”

Gil was lying back on his couch with his eyes closed.

“I’m not going to Mobley or anything, I wouldn’t, couldn’t do that. I’m sorry Gil, I’m sorry. I guess I’ll go now, okay. I think I understand what I’ve done…to…us…Gil, and I know it’s…I regret it…I had no right to speak to you in that way. No right at all.”

As he said these words he became too choked up with tears to continue. He pushed himself up to his feet and made his way to the front door. He couldn’t speak now even if he’d known what to say, he put his hand on the door knob to open it and looked back at Gil, still immobile on the couch, still with his eyes closed.

He opened the door and left the house, closing the door behind him.

Gil stayed still on the couch for a long time – maybe a couple of hours – and he wasn’t exactly asleep but neither was he awake. His limbs were stiff and his chest hurt. He decided to go to bed; it was all he could think to do. He sort of staggered to his bed and lay on it; he didn’t undress or remove his shoes. He was asleep in seconds.

At the lab the next night there was more speculation and conjecture than any of them could remember. Gil Grissom had called in sick. Nick was at work but as Warrick pointed out, he looked as if he was going to come down with whatever was ailing Gris. Nick could hardly speak, he’d had no sleep at all and he’d sat in his truck outside Gil’s house for four hours and most of that time he’d been sobbing. He was lost and he felt he would never be found again. He sat waiting for Catherine to hand out assignments.

He did indeed look ill and felt ill, he could hardly believe that he had come to work but what he couldn’t believe at all was that Gil had taken a sick day. He felt physically sick that he’d caused this…his pride had been wounded but Gil had treated him badly, no one could deny that but his response had been totally disproportionate.

The language he’d used; the menacing and threatening manner he’d assumed in his tirade at Gil…why had he behaved like that? What pathetic excuse could he possibly had conjured up to treat the man he loved…the look of hurt and pain on Gil’s face…as he thought of that look he jumped up and clamped his hand over his mouth – he made it to the bathroom, but not before he’d vomited into his hand. He’d eaten nothing and had only drunk a juice, and the fluid dripped through his fingers and down his shirt.

Warrick had followed him to the bathroom and, as he saw the state Nick was in, grabbed a handful of hand towels and wet them and started to wipe around Nick’s face. He pulled Nick’s hands down under the taps and rinsed them. Nick had tears freely flowing down his cheeks and as Warrick succinctly said:

“You look like shit man!”

Catherine came into the bathroom a few moments later and after seeing the state of Nick said that he must go home – whatever was going around it was certainly virulent and she wanted to minimise exposure.

Nick didn’t speak – he couldn’t. Warrick offered to take him home but Nick shook his head and croaked out, “Take a shower, can’t leave like this. Be okay drive or get cab – you go work – two down.”

His two colleagues followed the disjointed ramble. “ I feel better for being sick, go, I’ll be okay.” The more normal speech caused the others to back off and they decided to leave, with instructions to contact them if he couldn’t get home. 

Nick had no intention of calling them but he did take a shower, a hot, steaming shower, the lab always had a lot of hot water. After twenty minutes he felt marginally better for trying to focus on nothing, he recited chemical symbols to himself to stop his mind thinking of what he’d done. 

He changed into a clean set of clothes kept in his locker and bagged his soiled clothes to take home and launder.

Given his episode a little earlier all the staff in the lab were giving him a wide berth so he was able to leave unhindered and once in his truck he sat there just wondering what to do. In truth he had no idea what to do, no idea whatsoever.

He sat there for an indeterminate amount of time and then started his truck and drove to Gil’s townhouse. His decision had not been a conscious one and he hardly remembered driving across town to get here. He could see some light through the closed drapes of the living room.

He sat in the truck for hours, just as he had done earlier that day, but he had no more tears; they’d dried up completely - he just felt numb. What he could not understand was his vehemence towards Gil. How had he gone from love to hatred and then to what…regret…in such a short space of time? He had never behaved in such a manner before, he was sure.

He had to do something. He thought a little longer and made a plan in his head – only a short plan – he couldn’t do anything complicated at the moment.

He got out of the truck and made his way to the front door of Gil’s home. He stood directly in front of it for a few minutes and then lifted his hand and knocked the wooden panel, rapping it gently at first a couple of times. He got no response but then he didn’t expect to, he knocked and waited and repeated that several times. Knocking the door, hurting his knuckles, roused him from his stupor somewhat and he became determined, like he had the last time he stood here, but for very different reasons.

He started to hammer on the door, his whole hand hurt now but he wasn’t going to give up. After a very long time the door opened and the figure of Gil Grissom stood by the door where he’d opened it about eighteen inches. He looked lifeless to Nick, as if he’d been squeezed dry of all emotions. A strange thought for a man supposedly renowned for his emotional barrenness. Nick made no move, he took several deep breaths and started to speak, the speech he’d thought of a few minutes before completely forgotten. 

“I…I…don’t…know…how to begin…Gil. What I said…the way I said it…it’s the worst things I’ve ever said…to anyone…ever. Why…I…said…what I did…well… was angry of course…but that gave me no right, no right to treat anyone…let alone you, Gil…let alone you…in that way. I am sorry and…I can’t think of anything more to say…that would help…I am truly sorry to have caused…you…so…much…” He was starting to choke-up again. He was saying these words with a great deal of difficulty into the completely blank face of Gil. He just wanted to leave now, the pain of looking at this man was more than he could bear.

“You need to go to work, Gil…you must go back to work. It’s sort of lifeless without you there…" He choked on the word. “...without you. It’s good man, I won’t be there you’ll be okay.” He couldn’t bear it anymore, his eyes were swimming with unshed tears and he took his last look at the man…he loved?

He whispered. “I love you.” And turned and left.

Nick managed to get into his truck with an enormous physical effort and unlike the previous time, he started the engine and took off immediately without looking back; he couldn’t anyway since his eyes were full of his tears.

He had no idea what to do and, for a man lacking any purpose or ideas, he drove immediately to his condo.

Gil stood on his doorstep for several minutes after Nick had left. He hadn’t uttered one word and had remained motionless as the distraught man had made his apology. He’d heard every word but it was as if Nick was speaking from a distance, as if Gil wasn’t connected to the scene in any way. 

What had Nick said to him? He’d said he was sorry. He’d said he didn’t understand why he’d said what he did to Gil. He’d said he’d never behaved like that before. He’d said that Gil should return to work. He said that he wouldn’t be there…

Gil had to think this thought through for several minutes; what exactly had he meant by that? That he was taking a sick day, or vacation time, leaving, what had Nick meant? Gil shut his door and made his way back to the couch where he’d been sitting when Nick had made his ferocious onslaught on his door. Gil had not changed since Nick’s visit; before or after his sleep, or after returning to his couch. All he had done was call the lab saying he was too sick to work. That was true.

Gil sat there for a little while trying to grasp something in his brain but it was just out of reach. He lay his head back and closed his eyes, ‘It’s okay I won’t be there you’ll be good’, that’s what Nick had said to him tonight. What had he said before? What? What? What?

‘If ever I thought I was like you I’d fucking kill myself.’ That’s what he’d said. But that was in relation to being like Gil, not anything else. That’s what he meant, he didn’t want to be like Gil. Gil was sure that was it; absolutely sure. What if he didn’t mean it like that? What if he now thought he’d got no option but…

Before he could think another word, Gil was up and looking for his keys, when he’d found them in their usual place, he turned out his lights and left his house. He was in his truck and on the road in less than thirty seconds and all he could think was ‘but’, ‘but’, ‘but’.

He was repeating it like a mantra. He knew Nick really well, at least he thought he did and he would never have categorised him as the suicidal type – but then he would have never thought he would have such a violent temper either. That begged the question; did he know Nick, his Nick? The man who’d demolished his carefully constructed walls and moved right in over the rubble. The thoughts that Gil had had over the hours since the onslaught…he didn’t think of it as a fight, he hadn’t joined in, so how could it be an fight? The thought he’d kept turning over and over in his head was that he had no ’terms of reference’. None whatsoever.

It had never happened to him before. Is this why he’d become so insular? To protect himself against the hurt and the turmoil? But had he protected himself so much that he was divorced from reality. Everyone had fights, all couples had some disagreements so why should they be any different? Nick had said he’d never done it before, never behaved in that fashion. But wasn’t he just as insular? Okay, he was more outgoing, more gregarious than Gil, but just like Gil, he’d never had a long term partner. 

They had spoken, whispered more likely, to each other about the relevance of their relationship. It was the ‘first’ time for both of them; they had both professed first time ‘love’ for each other. Is this what ‘love’ did to you? Tore your guts out without anaesthetic and shoved them back, haphazardly? Gil didn’t know, he had no idea, perhaps it was the same for Nick.

Perhaps the vehemence was Nick’s anger because he was in love and felt betrayed by that love and his lover. Was Gil’s shock because no one had ever shown that depth of emotion towards him before? That was it; he had nothing to go on at all, no evidence that he could sift through.

He had to get to Nick, to see him, to…in truth he didn’t know what he was going to do. What did people, couples, do, talk, cry, try to patch it up? Did he want Nick, did he still want Nick? He couldn’t answer his own question, because he didn’t know the answer. 

There was little traffic on the roads and Gil was outside Nick’s condo in twenty minutes. Nick’s truck was parked in its usual spot and, glancing up, Gil could see a lot of lights on in the condo.

Nick had come to him; it was his turn to go to Nick.

Gil suddenly became apprehensive, frightened for Nick. He DID want him, he did want him, he couldn’t come this far and lose him without a fight. He’d fight to keep him, he knew he would, but… There seemed to be a ‘but’ in the way all the time. 

Gil jumped from his truck and ran all the way to Nick’s door and without hesitation banged on it, in a similar fashion to what Nick had done to his door earlier. He didn’t let up, he kept banging and was just about to start shouting and really panicking, when the door opened and he came face to face with Nick.

“I love you and I’m not willing to let you go Nick, not without a fight, not without a real fight!” The words rushed out Gil’s mouth at the relief of seeing Nick.

Nick was plainly stunned and just stood there. Gil pushed the door and started to move into the condo. Nick didn’t move and Gil found himself very close to Nick, so close their bodies were nearly touching and their faces were inches apart. Gil could hardly focus but he could see the despair in the eyes. Gil brought his hand up to Nick’s face and gently stroked his cheek with his fingertips. 

“I don’t want to lose you Nick; lose ‘us’.”

Nick swayed as he heard these words and tried to grasp what he was being told. He closed his eyes and felt a blackness overtake him.

His next awareness was of Gil, slapping his face, or tapping it really, and speaking sharply to him.

“Nick, Nick, come on Nick. What’s wrong, are you okay, have you taken anything Nick? Nick, have you taken anything?”

Nick was trying hard to remain awake, he was very uncomfortable. He was on the floor squashed up, behind his door that was now closed.

“What have I taken?” He slurred the question.

“I don’t know Nick. You’ve got to tell me what you’ve taken, what is it?”

“Don’t know, don’t know what I’ve taken. Have I taken anything?” Even Nick knew he was making no sense, but he was trying.

“You’ve got to tell me Nick, I need to know, tell me…..I’m calling nine nine one, Nick, do you hear me?”

“What am I taking? What am I doing here? I don’t know.” Nick’s speech was slurred and he was unfocussed. 

This was going nowhere fast and Gil was seriously panicked now. He left Nick and searched his pockets for his cell, but he couldn’t find it; he hadn’t got it. So he then looked for Nick’s cell, he couldn’t see it anywhere, but then checked Nick’s pockets and it was in his shirt pocket. He dialled the emergency number and the operator was immediately on the line. He gave her the details and address and said he thought it may be an overdose. She promised to send the paramedics.

Nick was very quiet and appeared to be sleeping, but Gil was determined to rouse him and try to keep him conscious. He wanted to have a look around the place to see if he could see any evidence of what Nick may have taken but he didn’t want to leave Nick’s side. 

“Nick, come on, open your eyes and talk to me. Nick.” As Gil spoke he shook Nick’s shoulder and then tapped his face again. Nick tried to brush Gil’s hand away. 

“You’re not going to get me to leave you alone. I’ve called the paramedics they’ll be here in a few minutes. Can you remember what you took. Nick? Please try.” 

“What did I take, I don’t remember; did I take something?” He was rambling but at least he was not falling into unconsciousness. Nick looked around him and then at Gil. 

“You love me, man?”

“Of course I do, Nick. We’re not used to this relationship stuff, either of us, we just need to work at it, that’s what I think.”

“Yeah man. I’m sorry.

“Not all your fault, Nick, God knows it isn’t but we can work it out. I promise.” Nick’s eyes started to shut again. “Nick, come on, stay with me here.”

“What did I take babe? Have I taken something?”

“I don’t know, what have you got here in your home, tablets or capsules?”

“Not much…Tylenol.”

“Is that all, where?”

“Bathroom.”

“Stay here I’m going to look.”

“Not going anywhere.”

Gil was heartened by the response, it was an attempt at humour. He touched Nick’s cheek and then got up from his position crouching in front of him. He made his way to the bathroom; it looked as neat and tidy as always. He opened the cabinet on the wall above the sink and there was the Tylenol, a small bottle that had been opened, but it looked nearly full. He made his way back to Nick. He looked into the bedroom as he walked back and saw that Nick’s suitcases were on the bed and his clothes were strewn about. 

Nick had not moved and looked to be asleep again and Gil roused him quite easily this time. “There’s no sign that you’ve taken anything, Nick.” Then a thought struck Gil, “When did you last eat, Nick?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know, I was sick.”

“When did you last have anything to?”

“Juice, I had some juice.” 

“When?”

“Before work.”

“Oh. God. Nick, I’ve called the paramedics and I think you’re just badly dehydrated…but maybe they should check you out.”

As he said that he heard sounds outside the door and then a short sharp knock on the door. Gil opened the door and two men stood there, their medical kit in their hands. Gil explained the situation and that although he’d said it was an OD he now believed that was not the case but he still needed some support.

Gil stepped back and they went to work on Nick. He could answer his name and date of birth and when they asked if he’d taken anything he said to them,

“I don’t think so, but I’m kind of out of it.”

They checked his pulse and blood pressure. The pulse was steady and strong but the blood pressure was quite low - 85/50. One of the men then decided to test his blood glucose level. The result, ready in ten seconds, surprised him.

“Sir, are you diabetic?”

“No.” Gil replied as Nick looked at the man as if he’d spoken Klingon to him. 

“We’ll take you in to get this checked out, but your blood sugar level is way too low, and it would account for your low BP too.”

“What is the level?” Gil asked this.

“2.1 and we’re looking at a normal range of 4 to 6. I’ll go get the medi-chair to move you and my colleague here is going to put a line in - just saline and low glucose solution. I’ll be right back.”

The other paramedic started the procedure and by the time the chair had arrived the line was in. They deftly manoeuvred Nick on to the chair and used a rod like extension to hold up the drip. Gil retrieved Nick’s keys, locked up and followed Nick to the waiting ambulance.

He sat quietly in the back of the ambulance - longing to touch Nick but hesitant to get in the way. The journey took about twenty five minutes but Gil was sure that Nick looked much better by the time they got to Desert Palm’s ER. 

Gil did the form filling for insurance and confirmed his status as Nick’s medical proxy then went to find Nick. He found him in a cubicle, lying on his side looking quite comfortable and very much better and asleep, Gil was certain he was asleep and not unconscious because Nick was snoring, in that delicate ‘Nick like’ way that Gil knew so well.

Gil was overwhelmed with love for the man he thought he was going to lose, first because of the argument and then because of an overdose. Even so, he could be ill, and Gil wondered if there was any family history of diabetes. He’d never mentioned it, but then he’d had no reason to do so. But diabetes could be hereditary. It didn’t matter, he’d look after him, no problem – but controlled diabetics didn’t need much looking after anyway and he’d make sure he was ‘controlled’.

Gil’s thoughts were whirling around his head at speed and he took a few deep breaths, he had Nick diagnosed and treated and controlled and he hadn’t had any tests yet. ‘Calm down Grissom’, he told himself, ‘jumping the gun, here’.

He stood by the side of the gurney and gently stroked Nick’s hair. He’d done that very thing many, many, times but it had never felt so soft and Nick had never looked as beautiful as he did at that moment. There was no doubt in Gil’s mind that despite everything he wasn’t letting this man go in a hurry. He just hoped that Nick would feel the same and stick around.

The doctor and a nurse came in at that moment and the doctor was reading the notes made by the paramedics. 

“Mmmm. Doesn’t know when he last ate or drank. Doesn’t know if he took any drugs and had low BP and BG. Right. Mr Stokes!” He boomed out the name and Gil jumped as did Nick, even in his sleep. But he was suddenly wide awake.

“Hey man, I’m trying to sleep here. Gil? Gil? What’s going on here?”

“Don’t you remember Mr Stokes?

“Well…” He looked around and knew instantly that he was in hospital; he groaned.

“Right, tell me what you remember.” 

“Errr…had a huge…errr… fight with Gil; didn’t sleep or eat and then went to work. I had some juice but then I got sick and I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since.”

It was Gil’s turn to groan.

“So how long since you slept, 48 hours? And you’ve barely eaten or drunk anything but you feel a lot better now?”

Nick nodded, and felt idiotic. Gil felt ashamed. The doctor was annoyed but philosophical. He’d see a lot worse.

“So a lover’s tiff, I imagine…” He nodded to himself catching the look between the two men as he spoke. “…and you neglect yourself so badly that you become dehydrated and very nearly comatose.”

They both had the good grace to look chagrined.

“Well, lucky for you, you’ve got a good insurance package, so, I’m going to order some further checks and tests and I’ll need a family history to make sure there’s no diabetes, or anything else, lurking around. I’ll keep you in the ER on the solution for a few hours and then you’ll be able to go home and come back for the results. And, in the meantime, gentlemen, for goodness sake, make up and make out!” 

“Yes, Sir.” Nick immediately responded to the authoritarian figure. Gil smirked; it had been a long time since he’d been up before the principal and he meant that metaphorically, because, of course, he’d never had to go before the principal, except for prize giving. He doubted if Nick had ever been busted, but then he’d find out, they’d got plenty of time.

“Nurse…Pixie…here will take your bloods and a history and I’ll probably see you in a couple of hours, you can rest up ‘til then.”

They both said, ‘thank you doctor’, in unison and the doctor left the cubicle and ‘Pixie’ took over, she told them that Gil should wait outside while she took the history. Gil was about to protest but Nick cautioned him with a glance…just like old times! Gil went to the waiting area and just sat down and started thinking about the last forty-eight hours.

He didn’t get very far when he heard his name called. It was a very familiar voice.

“Gil, Gil, what on earth are you doing here, are you okay?”

Well it’s obvious he wasn’t okay since he was sitting in a hospital, so there was a huge clue to start off with; he must look like shit and he had called in sick but since he was in the waiting area and wasn’t dripping blood, the question could have been rhetorical.

“Sara, well, I’m not exactly okay, but it’s not me that’s been brought into the hospital ill…” He stopped, because he had called in and he didn’t want Sara prying into his private life, as much as she thought it was hers for the taking and she was just waiting for Gil to recognise that fact. “I’ve not been well but I’ve had to bring….a friend in, he was much worse than me.” He couldn’t tell her a downright lie, but that was about all he was going to say on the matter. “What brought you here, a case?”

“Yeah, assault and battery, I’ve just been to collect and photograph. Who’s your fiend then?”

Direct as ever, Gil opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t actually know what, when the ludicrously named Pixie appeared.

“Oh, Mr Grissom you can go back in now, I’m done for now.”

“Thank you so much, nurse. I have to go Sara. See you at work.” Off he went, but he wouldn’t put it past Sara to pull rank and find out just exactly who the friend was.

She did. “Nurse, I’m Sara Sidle with the LVPD lab, could you tell me the name of the patient Gil…Mr Grissom, is seeing?”

Pixie, now completely in love with the adorable Texan and a sucker for a ‘true love story’ said, “No, I’m sorry that’s confidential information. Unless you’re working a case, of course, but then doctor likes a court order anyway. Okay?” And off she went, leaving a sulky Sara in her wake with no time for a cross examination.

Sara hung around for few minutes pondering her next move when her cell rang out. There was a body at the ‘Paris’ and they were two down. She left the hospital planning her next move in ‘Operation Name a Friend.’

Gil had gone straight to the cubicle to Nick.. He had a new bag of fluids hanging up and was again lying on his side in his favoured sleeping position…except Gil wasn’t there to provide the cushioning effect they both loved. He moved quietly to the cot side and pulled up a chair. It was horribly uncomfortable but he didn’t care. 

Nick woke a little when Gil’s hand took hold of his. He opened his very sleepy eyes and looked at Gil.

“Guess I’m an idiot then.”

“I think that’s a fair assessment, Nick, but you’re not alone, I’m just as bad.”

“Hey, Gil? Have you showered man, or changed your clothing, ‘cause I don’t mean to be personal here, but you’re buzzing, man.”

“Oh my God, it’s been days, Nick, I think I’d better see what I can do.”

“Go home, all I’m going to do is sleep and drip feed, man. Come and get me in a couple of hours.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Gil sounded petulant.

“While no-one might believe it ‘round here, man, I’m a grown-up now and I’ll be okay…go.”

Gil sighed. “Alright but I’ll speak to the nurse and tell her to call me and it’ll have to be on your cell, I’ve got it here. Oh god, no wallet, no money, no truck, I’ve no money to pay for a cab.” 

“There’s some bills in my pants pocket, wherever they are, that’ll get you home.”

Gil found the pants and checked the pockets. “Got it, trust you to have contingency money. You were a scout weren’t you?”

“I was. Now go, let me sleep. Do you really still love me after all my…”

“…I really do. Go to sleep and I’ll be back sooner.” He kissed Nick, just lightly on his lips. “I do, I really do.” He smiled at his young lover and left him already fast asleep. 

Gil took a cab back to Nick’s place. He was embarrassed riding in the poor man’s cab since he knew he was ‘ripe’ and could hardly believe he’d been so lax with his personal hygiene. This ‘love’ was really screwing with him. One minute he was deliriously happy, the next, devastated and then happy again. Was he too old for this malarkey?

He thought of the good times he’d had in the months they’d been together and was convinced he’d never been so happy, and then this…aberration…he knew darn well that whatever Nick had said, and he had been out of order, Gil had been deserving of at least some of the anger. He hadn’t used the relationship, he was absolutely certain of that, there was nothing he could use Nick for, really. He was just as certain that Nick had not used him, he couldn’t think of one instance where Nick had even tried to take advantage of him…I work at least. He smiled to himself.

What Gil had to decide was if his stupid ‘evaluation’ was correct. His delivery of the information to Nick in the form of the riddle was what had so inflamed Nick. There was no getting away from it, if it had been anyone else Gil was sure he wouldn’t have been so flippant. So, he had been treating Nick differently. But his assessment of Nick at work? That was right, he needed to be a little more focussed in the field, a little less cavalier perhaps. There was no way he wouldn’t make the grade, he just needed a little more nurturing.

Gil knew what his own problem was – always had been – he was no good at ‘delivery’. He had inappropriate responses. His legendary morbid humour at scenes of death and devastation had earned him the nickname ‘Gruesome’. He thought that was where it came from anyway. But mostly he thought this was a self-preservation mechanism, because the horror of some of the work he had to do, they all had to do, was sometimes beyond comprehension.

While Gil had to break terrible news to people about ‘death and devastation’, even after all this time, he was awkward and even hesitant. Nick never was and what worried Gil was… He got no further because the cab had arrived at Nick’s condo. He paid his fare and tipped generously; he’d stunk the cab out after all, and made his way to the condo. 

He let himself in and made a plan. Tidy Nick’s place up and pack some clean clothes for Nick at the hospital, and then go to his own house for a shower. He’d then return to the hospital. 

That’s what he did; he put Nick’s clothes away, where he thought they went and just straightened things up. There was not much to do as Nick was a naturally tidy guy. In twenty minutes he was on his way home. It was dawn, the traffic was picking up and it promised to be another lovely day. Any day would be better than the last two.

It wasn’t until Gil was soaking under a hot shower that he picked up his train of thought from the cab. Gil had been pondering whether Nick’s ‘cavalier attitude’ was why Gil thought he needed to be more cautious. As he meticulously scrubbed himself down Gil thought that he was on the wrong track altogether. It was him, not Nick, who was cavalier. 

Gil didn’t know how to handle the people that weren’t in a controlled environment. He was fine with suspects, witnesses, even victims but if he had to deal with, say, a murdered man’s wife, he knew what he should do, but couldn’t quite pull it off, their grief overwhelmed him and he stood back from them whereas Nick would be supportive, caring and know what to say and how to say it. This didn’t make Nick ‘cavalier’, it made him ideally suited for the job. 

Gil stood still in the shower, his skin tingling from his vigorous cleansing. It had become clear to him that he was the who was lacking, not Nick. ‘Dear God, but I had a lot of explaining and apologising to do.’ The water started to run cold and Gil stayed there, under the spray, cooling down his embarrassment.

No wonder Nick was so angry, Gil had misread the situation completely and his obscure riddle had been used, okay subconsciously, but used to mask the real problem. Gil just didn’t understand the easy rapport that Nick had with everyone and misconstrued it as a ’fault’ because it wasn’t what Gil did. Nom it wasn’t what Gil did; it was much better than Gil did, a helluva lot better.

The water got a little too cold and Gil shivered, or it could have been realisation hitting him. One thing Gil was sure about though. This ‘relationship’ stuff was a minefield and he’d just been blown apart.

Mindful of Nick’s condition, Gil took the time to eat some cereal and toast and drink a couple of coffees. He did feel better for that. Ready to face the music, even as he worried about the consequences, he knew that they would be okay. If they could come through the last days they’d survive anything, perhaps be stronger for knowing more of each other, understanding more of themselves. 

Gil drove back to the hospital, he’d called them before he’d eaten and had been assured that Mr Stokes was recovering very well. Arriving back at the hospital, he checked at the Nurses’ station. Nick had been checked regularly and his blood glucose readings were now perfectly normal, as were his blood pressure and the dehydration was being taken of care off. He’d just started his fourth litre of fluids. When that bag was empty he would be discharged, and they’d arranged for him to have consults about Diabetes – but it seemed increasingly likely that the low blood sugar was caused by circumstances and not by illness. While Gil privately agreed he was still in favour of the testing to make sure. 

He then went to the same cubicle he’d left Nick in and there was his ‘sleeping beauty’. Still sleeping and still snoring, softly, ,but looking so much better that Gil’s heart lightened immeasurably. They would make it, he was sure, he wasn’t about to relinquish this new found love. It’d hurt like hell for a time there but for the most part it had been the best part of his life he’d ever had.

He sat down and waited, he didn’t want to disturb Nick again. He looked at his messy hair and when he leaned forward he noticed that Nick had drooled, not a lot, but enough to be teased. Nick’d eyelids suddenly started moving as his eyes moved beneath them – a dream – but then Nick began to murmur and move around, only slightly, but sufficient for Gil to conclude that it wasn’t a pleasant experience, not a nightmare though, surely?

Gil was very alert now and his relaxed composure was replaced by his own agitation. Should he wake Nick or leave him to ride out the storm – they weren’t supposed to last long – even as he processed his thoughts Nick began to quieten again and sighed a heavy sigh, still asleep, and settled once more.

Gil sighed too, he’d had enough drama to last a long time and he didn’t want anything more, just to sort out what had happened and where they were going. Should they come clean and admit their involvement. Sara would have an apoplexy and so would Catherine but for entirely different reasons.

Gil dozed a little in his chair still bemused at his mental picture of Sara and Catherine and their respective apoplexies 

A nurse came in just then and proceeded to wake Nick, ”Come on ‘Sleeping Beauty’ rise and shine!” Gil was inordinately jealous at her words to Nick; Nick was ‘his’ not ‘hers’. But Nick responded and pulled himself into the land where his ‘prince’ awaited him – he could do analogies with the best of them. 

He saw Nick catch sight of him and his face lit up, “Hey you, you came back for me.” 

“Of course I did, how’re you feeling.”

“Tired like you wouldn’t believe, these sadistic nurses say, ‘get some sleep, Nick’ and then proceed to wake me up every ten minutes.”

“Oh come on, don’t exaggerate - it’s been over an hour each time and we have to check that you’re okay.,”

“Yeah I know, sorry just joking…ow …that hurt…again.” Nick complained as his finger .as pricked for a blood sample to test his blood sugars.

“It is my experience that you men are the biggest babies over the smallest things and yet play down the serious stuff – am I right?”

“Absolutely not, that hurt.”

“Of course it did.” This nurse did a good line in ‘dripping sarcasm’.

“Perfect reading though. Your BP is fine and the bag’s nearly empty I’ll see if I can rustle up a doctor to sign your discharge – lay back a while longer and hey, why don’t you ‘get some sleep, Nick.’” She deadpanned and left them.

“Apart from that naughty gay boy lecture when I first got here everyone’s been great to me – especially knowing I’ve been such an ass.”

“Ah, but it’s such a nice ass.”

“Think so?”

“Know so.”

They were looking at one another and while the banter was jovial the look was serious. 

“You gave me the fright of my life, Nick.”

“I was a bit freaked myself, ‘cause you kept asking what I’d taken and I knew I hadn’t taken anything but it was like you had expected me to and I didn’t want to disappoint you, but the reasoning was all just out of my reach.”

“I made a huge assumption; it seems I’ve been doing a fair bit of that lately. I’m sorry.” Nick was going to speak but Gil put his finger to his lips to indicate to him to stay quiet. “We’ll sort this all out when you up and running again. Okay?”

Nick nodded and was about to sleep again, but he held his hand out to Gil, who took it and kissed the back of his fingers.

“Hey man, you smell a whole lot better.” 

The nurse chose that moment to return. “Found a doctor, that’s a minor miracle in itself.” A young man followed her in and looked as if he’d been frightened. If Gil’s recollections about hospital protocols were correct, he probably was living in fear of his life from the senior nurses. 

I’ve checked your file Mr Stokes and you are ‘good to go’. The follow ups are all booked and nurse, here, will give you the details. I can also confirm, since the preliminaries are back that there was no sign of any drugs or alcohol in your system – at all. That’s strange because our original instruction was a possible OD.”

“That was my mistake, entirely mine.” Gil wanted no blame attached to Nick.

“I think it was probably easily done, because the symptoms of low BP and BG would present in similar ways. No harm done, but you’ll get a full panel when you come back for a consult. Okay, any questions?”

The frightened look belied a seemingly competent doctor; Gil looked at Nick who was thinking about the question.

“Nope. As you say Doc I feel ’good to go’ and thank you for your time and patience.”

“You’re welcome, nurse will disengage the line. Bye.” And he was gone. And ’nurse’ did as she was told.

Nick’s stomach was rumbling, he’d had a pee, he hadn’t realised how desperate he was until he stood up and then all the fluids seemingly made their way to his bladder. Now he wanted to eat - something big and greasy is what he fancied. So Gil promised to stop at a diner on their way home.

Gil pulled into a diner that was fairly near to Nick’s condo. Nick ordered a ‘surf and turf’ with all the trimmings and Gil, a salad, although when the meals came Gil kept helping himself to Nick’s fries and then his onions and even tried a mushroom or two before the tines of Nick’s fork gently prodded the back of Gil’s errant hand.

“Sorry, maybe I should have had a steak – it looks good.”

“Only ‘cause it’s on my plate. You’re good at that I’ve noticed, a regular food thief where my meals are concerned.”

Gil went back to his own salad but eyed Nick’s plate surreptitiously, or so he thought, until Nick offered him a fork full of steak and then a prawn. It was strange that they had quickly overcome the huge argument and settled back into their comfortable manner with each other. But neither Gil nor Nick underestimated the need for some serious appraisal of their relationship, both in and out of work.

Nick ordered the cherry pie with ice cream and then as an afterthought two spoons. This caused the waitress to raise her eyebrows and look at the men more closely; they didn’t actually look like the ‘sharing’ type, but you never knew. The pie arrived and sat between the two men, who were both apparently deep in thought, when Nick suddenly started laughing and at Gil’s quizzical look elaborated.

“Oh man, ‘Pixie’…where did that come from?”

“Well I must admit it did seem entirely inappropriate for the nurse – but she was very kind and helped me out of tight spot.” Gil then went on to explain about Sara in the hospital. 

“She’ll find out, won’t she?” Nick asked Gil.

“The hospital staff should not discuss patients with anyone, but a wheedling Sara, pulling rank, and a chatty nurse and there you have it. Even if she knows it was you, that’s all she’ll know, but of course she’ll want to know every last detail of how we ended up together at the hospital and probably will question, minutely, the fact that I called you ‘friend’.” 

“We need to talk about this Gil – you know – everything. I think we should sort out where we stand with each other and where we are going with ‘us’. Not, for the record Gil, that I aim to be going far, I want into this for keeps. Okay?”

“Me too. It strikes me I’ve just limped along and given no serious thought to the two of us at work or to how a ‘relationship’ develops. In my defence it’s because I have no idea, you know this is the first time…that’s embarrassing for of a man of my age to admit to. Never loved like this before.”

“As a matter of fact, man, I like that. I like that I’m the only one, it makes me feel special, you know? I’m no better at this than you and after…after I came to your place and said those things…I seriously thought that was that. I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t take the blame, Nick. I’ve had time during the day to consider what I did to trigger your wrath and…” Nick had opened his mouth to protest but Gil stopped him.  
“…let me finish Nick. What you said was right, absolutely right, there was no way I should have behaved as I did towards you at work. It was dereliction of my duty as your supervisor and I apologise – it won’t happen again I can assure you. 

“However, the way you told me and the things you said hurt me deeply. I can’t deny that. I have never been spoken to before in that manner and I hope it never happens again…” Nick groaned and hung his head. “…that said, Nick, I can see that I did deserve it, and when I say that I hope you never speak to me like that again I just hope, sincerely, that I never give you cause to do so.”

Nick looked up at Gil, “Man. I hope I never speak like that to anyone ever again. You know that I have never spoken like that to my worst enemy, let alone you. I was so angry at you, but I do remember something I said when I realised what I’d done, something like, ‘I spoke like that to you because I could.’” Gil nodded his remembrance.

“I think it a roundabout, convoluted way, it meant ‘cause we were, are, so close, I can say what I like to you without fear…” At Gil’s incredulous look Nick laughed. “Not that intend to do it again and I’m sorry too, babe, I really am.”

“I do understand what you’re getting at…the emotional intensity that had simmered all night directed at the man who’d caused it. Like I said, Nick, this relationship stuff is very new to me, to both of us, and hey, the ice cream’s nearly melted!”

They shared ‘a look’ that they both interpreted as ‘we’re okay now’ and that more importantly, they were going to stay ‘okay’. 

And then they laid into their cherry pie.

The End


End file.
